


[Lighthouse]

by Fragilister



Category: Watch Dogs (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Regret, Suicidal Thoughts, ending spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 08:56:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3890242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fragilister/pseuds/Fragilister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why did he come back here every few nights? If someone asked him, he would say he didn't know. That's a lie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	[Lighthouse]

Out of all the possibilities, why did it have to be a lighthouse?

Aiden squinted, seeing the outlines of the painted structure, contrasting heavily against the blue-black background in the almost dark room. He has been standing there for such a long while now in the half light, as the sun was setting outside. Time didn't seem to flow, and though it was getting darker and darker, the man didn't notice, absorbed by the picture.

He never realised it was there, even when he came to Nicky's house before, just after they left. Though he knew his sister and Jackson were now safe, somewhere far away, he didn't want to abandon the house. It was the only thing that kept him sane these days; visiting the house from time to time, using it as a shelter. He payed the bills, cleaned out the fridge, but besides that Aiden rarely moved any items. He left the dishes that Nicole washed on the rack. The laundry was just put in a basket next to the washing machine, while some other clothes that Nicky already folded lied upon her bed, beside some books that she never read. Freshly from the store, Aiden saw the bag from the bookshop next to her bed. He never touched them, but saw that the one on the top of the small pile was _The Light Between Oceans_. He wouldn't notice it in any other circumstances, but he used to walk around in the dark, empty rooms on sleepless nights.

Another day came when he needed some rest as the Hunt was still on, and there he was, staring at paintings and photographs with his usual blank expression. There was a small picture of Lena next to the door of her room. It was locked, and even if it wasn't, Aiden didn't feel strong enough to get inside there just yet, even though so much time has gone by.

And then he saw the lighthouse painting.

That lighthouse, on an island, the way lighthouses usually are placed. That lighthouse, where everything was supposed to end, but it was just the beginning.

Aiden felt sick. He was slowly understanding that this thing just put more blood on his hands, instead of ending anything. Blood of the man he never desired to kill, not that way, not at that time. Not like this.

Slowly he peeled his gaze off the painting and turned around to walk over to the couch. He sat down on it and leaned against the backrest with a sigh. He felt something poking at his back and pulled up one of Jacks' toy cars. Aiden played with the wheels with one of his finger, before he put the car upon the coffee table.

Jackson's toys were all over the house and Aiden didn't move them away, just as he didn't touch Nicky's things. One day he thought he might gather them up and drive them to Nicole's new home, but he couldn't make himself track them and come over, not just yet. He was filled with shame and anger at himself for ever letting the situation get to this point. At least they were finally safe, far away from him, but safe.

If so, why wouldn't his nightmares go away?

All he saw when he closed his eyes were fixers hurting his sister, hurting Jackson. After all Aiden knew that they wouldn't be safe as long as he was still doing his job, as long as he was alive. Slowly, he picked up his 1911 and spinned it on his finger before fixing his grip on it and putting the barrel of it against the underside of his jaw. When he swallowed thickly, he felt the cold of the metal graze more of his skin, just as it did many times, other nights.

He didn't have to stay alive. In fact, it would be way better if he disappeared. Better for him, better for everyone. Why not?

Aiden held his breath and shut his eyes, as he unsecured the gun and rested his finger on the trigger. He moved the rest of his fingers on the grip and hissed, squeezing his eyelids so hard, that he could almost see colors underneath them. With a short move, he moved his fingers on the trigger, ready for however it would feel. And then the darkness. Aiden's heart was pounding in his chest, his breath shortened and his hands suddenly felt unsteady and numb, but this time he could do it. This time he would dare. Three, two, one...

Trigger pulled.

_ Click. _

"Fuck," Aiden hissed, lowering the pistol and putting it onto his knees, when his trembling hand suddenly felt too weak. It was unloaded. It was the only time he actually managed to get himself to pull the trigger, and it was unloaded. With a frustrated grunt he threw the gun across the room, hearing it fall on the floor somewhere in the dark, when he hid his face in his hands. "Fuck," he repeated absentmindedly and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

Suddenly he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and he reached for it automatically, glancing at the screen and reading T-Bone's name, before answering.

"Yeah?"

" _Why weren't you answering? We thought someone finally tracked your ass._ "

Aiden sighed and leaned back against the backrest, coughing to make sure his voice wouldn't crack when he finally spoke. He looked in the direction where the gun probably lied now and he sighed. Apparently he had to try again, some other day. Or night.

"I was busy, what's up with you?"


End file.
